Fatal Facade
Chapter 1 - A New Life
Chapter 1
As I stepped of the train the first thing I realized about Birmingham is that it was very industrialized. Unlike the south, which had to remain ever classy and pristine due to the close presence of the King, Birmingham was focused on work and work alone. I had done some reading about the city on my journey here and noted it was the only place in England with a BSA factory in the war. The BSA factories made weapons and motor cars. They were still in use today despite the war being over but mostly focused on motor cars and motorcycles. I didn’t even know if they continued to manufacture firearms anymore.
I approached the station gates I noticed a sign directing people into 2 lines. Irish to the left and non-Irish to the right. I took the right lane and slowly moved up the line with the throng of people. Despite the slow pace of this que I noticed the Irish que was hardly moving at all. This was probably due to the threat of IRA terrorists. The Irish Republican Army were a large group of people that wanted Ireland, including the Northern Irish areas to be completely independent from the United Kingdom. The IRA used bomb threats, murders, and political warfare to try and get their own way, and the king refused to give in which only made their movements more dangerous.
Before long I was at the front of the que.
“Tickets and passport please ma’am.” The burly ticket officer asked me, his voice was gruff and authoritative. I noticed he was accompanied by one policeman next to him. I glanced over as I handed over my ticket and passport nervously. My family could have connections with the police even in Birmingham. Before I left Bristol I had called a favor from an old friend and asked him to draw up some forged papers for me, including a train ticket and passport, just in case. I hoped that with the presence of the long Irish que next to us that he wouldn’t examine the documents too closely. I hadn’t changed my first name just the last. As it would be easier to forge that way.
“Iris Bradley” The police officer said suddenly.
“Yes” I answered with a smile and slow blink, trying to appear normal.
“Enjoy Birmingham Miss Bradley” He said as he handed back my documents.
I walked forward and let out a slow breath I didn’t realize I was holding. With my single suitcase in hand I set out towards the city. It didn’t hold many belongings, just the things I would need to start new, including a few simple dresses, makeup, undergarments, some outfits that I used for work. Oh and of course 200 pounds cash, and a diamond necklace worth 650 pounds cash, acquired by my work of course.
Firstly, I had to find a place to stay, ideally, I was looking for a nice family or lonely couple that had a spare room to rent, but for now a Bed and Breakfast would do. Deciding on the best route to take I headed towards the BSA, it was my understanding that BnBs would be based closer to the factory to accommodate men that traveled from afar to work here.
I had been walking on the soot covered cobblestone roads for about 40 minutes. I was walking directly parallel to the factory now and watched the men work as I walked. At ground level the tasks mostly involved shoveling coal into the furnaces to heat steel and other metal that would be placed above. I watched the men shovel coal and fire burst out of the furnaces and I watched men with wheelbarrows transporting coal and metal ore that needed to be smelted. I admired working class men, compared to the toffs down south they worked hard for their money, instead of being born with a silver spoon in the mouth they understood poverty, they understood hardship.
The sun had begun to set and the search for a room to buy for the night became more urgent. I didn’t want to be out here in the ungodly hours of the night. Despite my work and my experience, it was too dangerous for me, for all women. I saw a pub at the end of the street and decided to ask there for help in finding a room, maybe they knew of a BnB in the area or someone who had a room to rent. As I walked up to the door I noted the name of the pub, The Garrison. I pushed open two sets of double doors and headed towards the bar, ignoring a few offensive looks off the men here. The barman looked over to me and headed over.
“You’re far too pretty to be here alone you know” He said respectfully as he nodded to the crowd around the pub.
I sighed and took out a pound note, I slid it across to the barman and was just about to ask him for BnBs in the area when I felt the presence of someone else next to me. He placed a flat cap next to me and I glanced over. He had a young looking face and was chewing a toothpick.
The barman, despite having already placed his hand forward about to take my money, withdrew from the transaction and addressed the chap stood next to me.
“Bottle of whiskey and 3 glasses please Harry” The man next to me said politely but with an air of dominance. I noted the Barman, Harry, didn’t take any money off him and just handed over the bottle no questions asked. The toothpick man noticed me staring and raised his eyebrows.
“You here alone?” He said.
With a small smile I nodded my answer and faced Harry ready to carry on my questioning. Harry seemed be busying himself with the other side of the bar suddenly, despite him knowing I hadn’t been served yet. I let a small puff of air come out my nose in annoyance and I bit my cheek as I waited. Still feeling the presence of the man beside me I looked around and faced him.
“Can I help you? I asked cordially, with a slight hint of annoyance showing through. My eyebrows raising in question.
“You’re new in Birmingham. What’s your name, Miss?” He retorted without missing a beat, still chewing on that toothpick.
I considered his question for a few seconds, my families people wouldn’t be here already, so this guy must consider himself someone who knows everybody’s business in the area. His stare grew more intense as I delayed my answer.
I held out my hand for him to shake.
“Iris Bradley”
He shook my hand and pulled me closer gently but with some force. He didn’t mean to hurt me, he just meant to show enforcement and authority. He leant in quite close to my face.
“Go home Miss Iris Bradley, its not safe for you to be here without an escort.”
Without giving me a chance to reply he put his cap back on, took the bottle and glasses and walked off to what appeared to be a private room in the pub.
“I’m working on that part” I answered to no one in particular. He glanced over before entering the private room, as if he appeared to hear me but did not reply, and he entered the room and shut the door.
It was a few minutes before the barman came back over to me, as he was serving other customers still at the other end of the bar. As he came over I slid him the pound note.
“Do you know of anyone renting a room in the area or any BnBs close by?” I said a little irked by is ignorance earlier.
He took my money and looked at me questioningly but asked no question.
“There’s one on the corner of Watery Lane, ran by an old lady and I heard she has 2 rooms spare at the minute.” He said speedily.
Glancing over to a cubby hole in the corner that accompanied the private room he added.
“I suggest you do as you’re told Miss”
He walked away adding nothing else to the conversation.
I left the pub and walked towards the street name he had mentioned. I had passed it before on my travels so I had a rough idea where it was located. It was drizzling slightly now; my long hair became dewy looking and raindrops dribbled down my forehead. I approached the house on the corner and knocked, it only has a small sign establishing it was in fact the right place, hence why I had missed it before. An old but firm looking lady answered looking distrustfully at me.
“Its too late to take in new guests” She said, going to shut the door. I placed my foot in the door so it couldn’t close fully and fished around my purse. I handed over 50 pounds through the small crack in the door, far more than even a months’ worth stay at the BnB.
“Please” I said desperately. “I have nowhere else to go”
She once again opened the door, but fully this time. Slowly she gestured for me to come inside.
“I don’t know where you got this money from Miss but I hope you bring no trouble to my door.” She said coldly as she closed the door behind herself and locked it. She motioned towards a signing in book.
“Ill assume you can read and write, put your name here and how long you want the room for”
I wrote down my name continuing to use my false last name, Iris Bradley. Thinking for a few seconds I wrote I would be in the room for a fortnight. That should be enough time to find a permanent place to stay. She looked at the book and gave me a key to room number 4.
“I lock the front door at 11pm and open it again at 5.30am. I’m the only one with the key to the front door as I need to protect my home from any unsavory people in the town. I’m sure you understand.” She said factually and nodded to herself.
“Your rooms on the top floor, front doors locked for the night now” She said as she walked off to what I assume is her chambers.
I walked up her wooden stairs trying to be quiet and not disturb the other guests. The first set of stairs came onto a landing and I noted the two bedrooms here were number 1 and number 2. I continued up the second set of stairs and came upon the second landing. I saw room number 3 was placed right beside the stairs and number 4 was at the end of the corridor. I trudged along slowly, the thought of getting into bed making my legs realize how tired they were.
Struggling with the key a little I opened the door to my room, it was small and modest. In the corner was a sink and mirror and a small curtain that could be drawn across if needed. Close by was a chest of draws with some flowers placed atop them. In the other corner was my bed, a single frame and mattress with floral sheets and pillows. Next to my bed was the bedside table. In the top draw was a copy of the bible and set atop the table was an empty beaker, a single glass, a lantern and an ashtray. The window in the room was placed along the same wall as the bed. I approached the window and looked outside. The view I had pointed down Watery Lane. I could see the entire street from this window.
Feeling my eyes beginning to sting from how tired they were I closed the curtains. They were slightly dusty and a dark green colour but did well to block out the little remaining light that was left in the sky. I turned on the lantern beside my bed and started to get undressed. After putting my clothes away, I remained just in my slip and sat in my bed. I remarked to myself at how comfy the bed was despite appearances. After laying down I turned over to face the wall and closed my eyes. Despite the noises of the night shift in the BSA factory I soon drifted off into a dreamless sleep. Tomorrow I had to begin work and it was important I was well rested.
As I stepped of the train the first thing I realized about Birmingham is that it was very industrialized. Unlike the south, which had to remain ever classy and pristine due to the close presence of the King, Birmingham was focused on work and work alone. I had done some reading about the city on my journey here and noted it was the only place in England with a BSA factory in the war. The BSA factories made weapons and motor cars. They were still in use today despite the war being over but mostly focused on motor cars and motorcycles. I didn’t even know if they continued to manufacture firearms anymore.
I approached the station gates I noticed a sign directing people into 2 lines. Irish to the left and non-Irish to the right. I took the right lane and slowly moved up the line with the throng of people. Despite the slow pace of this que I noticed the Irish que was hardly moving at all. This was probably due to the threat of IRA terrorists. The Irish Republican Army were a large group of people that wanted Ireland, including the Northern Irish areas to be completely independent from the United Kingdom. The IRA used bomb threats, murders, and political warfare to try and get their own way, and the king refused to give in which only made their movements more dangerous.
Before long I was at the front of the que.
“Tickets and passport please ma’am.” The burly ticket officer asked me, his voice was gruff and authoritative. I noticed he was accompanied by one policeman next to him. I glanced over as I handed over my ticket and passport nervously. My family could have connections with the police even in Birmingham. Before I left Bristol I had called a favor from an old friend and asked him to draw up some forged papers for me, including a train ticket and passport, just in case. I hoped that with the presence of the long Irish que next to us that he wouldn’t examine the documents too closely. I hadn’t changed my first name just the last. As it would be easier to forge that way.
“Iris Bradley” The police officer said suddenly.
“Yes” I answered with a smile and slow blink, trying to appear normal.
“Enjoy Birmingham Miss Bradley” He said as he handed back my documents.
I walked forward and let out a slow breath I didn’t realize I was holding. With my single suitcase in hand I set out towards the city. It didn’t hold many belongings, just the things I would need to start new, including a few simple dresses, makeup, undergarments, some outfits that I used for work. Oh and of course 200 pounds cash, and a diamond necklace worth 650 pounds cash, acquired by my work of course.
Firstly, I had to find a place to stay, ideally, I was looking for a nice family or lonely couple that had a spare room to rent, but for now a Bed and Breakfast would do. Deciding on the best route to take I headed towards the BSA, it was my understanding that BnBs would be based closer to the factory to accommodate men that traveled from afar to work here.
I had been walking on the soot covered cobblestone roads for about 40 minutes. I was walking directly parallel to the factory now and watched the men work as I walked. At ground level the tasks mostly involved shoveling coal into the furnaces to heat steel and other metal that would be placed above. I watched the men shovel coal and fire burst out of the furnaces and I watched men with wheelbarrows transporting coal and metal ore that needed to be smelted. I admired working class men, compared to the toffs down south they worked hard for their money, instead of being born with a silver spoon in the mouth they understood poverty, they understood hardship.
The sun had begun to set and the search for a room to buy for the night became more urgent. I didn’t want to be out here in the ungodly hours of the night. Despite my work and my experience, it was too dangerous for me, for all women. I saw a pub at the end of the street and decided to ask there for help in finding a room, maybe they knew of a BnB in the area or someone who had a room to rent. As I walked up to the door I noted the name of the pub, The Garrison. I pushed open two sets of double doors and headed towards the bar, ignoring a few offensive looks off the men here. The barman looked over to me and headed over.
“You’re far too pretty to be here alone you know” He said respectfully as he nodded to the crowd around the pub.
I sighed and took out a pound note, I slid it across to the barman and was just about to ask him for BnBs in the area when I felt the presence of someone else next to me. He placed a flat cap next to me and I glanced over. He had a young looking face and was chewing a toothpick.
The barman, despite having already placed his hand forward about to take my money, withdrew from the transaction and addressed the chap stood next to me.
“Bottle of whiskey and 3 glasses please Harry” The man next to me said politely but with an air of dominance. I noted the Barman, Harry, didn’t take any money off him and just handed over the bottle no questions asked. The toothpick man noticed me staring and raised his eyebrows.
“You here alone?” He said.
With a small smile I nodded my answer and faced Harry ready to carry on my questioning. Harry seemed be busying himself with the other side of the bar suddenly, despite him knowing I hadn’t been served yet. I let a small puff of air come out my nose in annoyance and I bit my cheek as I waited. Still feeling the presence of the man beside me I looked around and faced him.
“Can I help you? I asked cordially, with a slight hint of annoyance showing through. My eyebrows raising in question.
“You’re new in Birmingham. What’s your name, Miss?” He retorted without missing a beat, still chewing on that toothpick.
I considered his question for a few seconds, my families people wouldn’t be here already, so this guy must consider himself someone who knows everybody’s business in the area. His stare grew more intense as I delayed my answer.
I held out my hand for him to shake.
“Iris Bradley”
He shook my hand and pulled me closer gently but with some force. He didn’t mean to hurt me, he just meant to show enforcement and authority. He leant in quite close to my face.
“Go home Miss Iris Bradley, its not safe for you to be here without an escort.”
Without giving me a chance to reply he put his cap back on, took the bottle and glasses and walked off to what appeared to be a private room in the pub.
“I’m working on that part” I answered to no one in particular. He glanced over before entering the private room, as if he appeared to hear me but did not reply, and he entered the room and shut the door.
It was a few minutes before the barman came back over to me, as he was serving other customers still at the other end of the bar. As he came over I slid him the pound note.
“Do you know of anyone renting a room in the area or any BnBs close by?” I said a little irked by is ignorance earlier.
He took my money and looked at me questioningly but asked no question.
“There’s one on the corner of Watery Lane, ran by an old lady and I heard she has 2 rooms spare at the minute.” He said speedily.
Glancing over to a cubby hole in the corner that accompanied the private room he added.
“I suggest you do as you’re told Miss”
He walked away adding nothing else to the conversation.
I left the pub and walked towards the street name he had mentioned. I had passed it before on my travels so I had a rough idea where it was located. It was drizzling slightly now; my long hair became dewy looking and raindrops dribbled down my forehead. I approached the house on the corner and knocked, it only has a small sign establishing it was in fact the right place, hence why I had missed it before. An old but firm looking lady answered looking distrustfully at me.
“Its too late to take in new guests” She said, going to shut the door. I placed my foot in the door so it couldn’t close fully and fished around my purse. I handed over 50 pounds through the small crack in the door, far more than even a months’ worth stay at the BnB.
“Please” I said desperately. “I have nowhere else to go”
She once again opened the door, but fully this time. Slowly she gestured for me to come inside.
“I don’t know where you got this money from Miss but I hope you bring no trouble to my door.” She said coldly as she closed the door behind herself and locked it. She motioned towards a signing in book.
“Ill assume you can read and write, put your name here and how long you want the room for”
I wrote down my name continuing to use my false last name, Iris Bradley. Thinking for a few seconds I wrote I would be in the room for a fortnight. That should be enough time to find a permanent place to stay. She looked at the book and gave me a key to room number 4.
“I lock the front door at 11pm and open it again at 5.30am. I’m the only one with the key to the front door as I need to protect my home from any unsavory people in the town. I’m sure you understand.” She said factually and nodded to herself.
“Your rooms on the top floor, front doors locked for the night now” She said as she walked off to what I assume is her chambers.
I walked up her wooden stairs trying to be quiet and not disturb the other guests. The first set of stairs came onto a landing and I noted the two bedrooms here were number 1 and number 2. I continued up the second set of stairs and came upon the second landing. I saw room number 3 was placed right beside the stairs and number 4 was at the end of the corridor. I trudged along slowly, the thought of getting into bed making my legs realize how tired they were.
Struggling with the key a little I opened the door to my room, it was small and modest. In the corner was a sink and mirror and a small curtain that could be drawn across if needed. Close by was a chest of draws with some flowers placed atop them. In the other corner was my bed, a single frame and mattress with floral sheets and pillows. Next to my bed was the bedside table. In the top draw was a copy of the bible and set atop the table was an empty beaker, a single glass, a lantern and an ashtray. The window in the room was placed along the same wall as the bed. I approached the window and looked outside. The view I had pointed down Watery Lane. I could see the entire street from this window.
Feeling my eyes beginning to sting from how tired they were I closed the curtains. They were slightly dusty and a dark green colour but did well to block out the little remaining light that was left in the sky. I turned on the lantern beside my bed and started to get undressed. After putting my clothes away, I remained just in my slip and sat in my bed. I remarked to myself at how comfy the bed was despite appearances. After laying down I turned over to face the wall and closed my eyes. Despite the noises of the night shift in the BSA factory I soon drifted off into a dreamless sleep. Tomorrow I had to begin work and it was important I was well rested.